User blog:Long Patrol Girl/The Warrior.
Dedication Dedicated to my two best friends, Drew and Lily. Prologue - The Tomb The darkness is a friend of no one, and some are more aware of this than others. He had always been one of those people; and as he walked down the poorly lit stairwell, with the overwhelming silence echoing throughout, he became very aware of that. His back ached in the black coldness, and he thought he would have to call for help. The older mouse was left alone though, and he got down alright. He slowly went around the large room and lit the other lanterns; it did little to make the room any brighter. He glanced about the room slowly; it was truly huge, and it was beautifully made. Yet, no matter how skillfully made, a rat is a rat, a tomb is a tomb. This tomb was fresh, and a new grave is perhaps the only thing more unsettling that an old grave. But this was different: This was The Tomb. This was Martin the Warrior's tomb. And this was no ordinary mouse; this was Gonff. He circled the stone sarcophagus of his friend and chuckled sadly, the sound echoing throughout. "Oh Martin," he said quietly. "Martin, Martin, Martin. We had some good times, huh?" He sat down on a small stone bench that faced the effigy of his best friend. He sighed deeply, and continued: "I did just what you had asked of me. It was hard, though. I imagine it was for the good of them all, including myself, but, still...I...I.......I had to tell someone." He stroked a small, roughly hewn box he had been carrying. He opened it and checked to make sure their contents remained; indeed, the fresh barkcloth, perfumed with memories and vanilla, laid inside. He closed it once more, and heaved the statue away from him; it crashed backwards onto its hidden hinges and jerked to a stop. Inside it was empty, save for a delicate bundle of roses and some sweet-smelling salts. He replaced the lid and heard the air as it was leached from the hidden compartment, locking the items inside in a timeless vault. "I had to write it out. I know they can't know but...Maybe someone will? I don't know, I don't know..." His voice broke and he collapsed on the stone floor, clutching the cold likeness that lay before him. "Martin!" he cried. "Why- why did-" His words caught in his throat as he wept and wept. He heard some of the torches burn themselves out and stutter. The room was plunged once again into icy, apathetic darkness. It was cold, and he shook, as he mourned for all the darkness in his life in the gloom. Chapter One - My Rose Has Wilted Fort Badrang lay in ruins, burning. Shouts of joy sounded over the walls, as the rebellious forces celebrated their victory. But all was not right here -- two figures were silhouetted against the flames, a mouse holding another mouse. He moved her closer to himself and whispered shakily, "Rose...Rose..." She did not answer. Their blood was mixing together on the dirty ground, and was staining both their clothes. "I am so sorry Rose...It had to be this way though...Otherwise...Oh-!" He snapped his head up and screamed at the sky. "Why did it have to be this way! This was the only thing that matter, here or there! Why couldn't something work out for once!" He clasped her closer to his chest. Her eyelids flickered opened briefly. "Martin..." "Rose! My Rose!" They kissed. "Rose, maybe it will work out and we can, we can-" She smiled sadly. "No...It won't...I can't..." "I..." he paused and looked around. He sighed. "Rose, I have to tell you something." She laughed, and winced, as she bled out more. "Martin, it really was never that hard to figure out. You really need to learn ab-" "I don't mean that Rose. You see-" she put a paw to his mouth. "Shh." "But R-" "Martin. Please. I- I don't think that..." The light in her eyes was leaving. She coughed painfully. "Just...Just...s-say-" "I love you Rose!" He pulled her close and kissed her. She looked up at him. "I...l-l-lov-ve.......y-y-y...y..." Her eyes shut for one final time. He wept over her broken body. The triumphant cries overpowered the sound of his tears though, and the flames were creeping closer. He suddenly stood up and faced the fire. "Go ahead! Do it! It won't make any difference!" he yelled at. "Devour me, please! My Rose has wilted, what else is there left for me to do?!" He collapsed back down onto the hard, bloodied ground. He remembered the sound of her voice when she talked and when she sang - Oh! When she sang! He remembered the delicate face and the flower-like hands. He remembered the sound of her last breath, which even in all its pain was still more beautiful than the whole world. He burned it all into his memory, as the fires threatened to burn the original. He grasped his sword and stared at it with a strange light in his eyes, the fire reflecting in the sword and his eyes. "Nothing has changed. It's all the same. And it always will be." The flames encircled them. There was a brilliant flash of light and a whoosh-ing sound. Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts Category:Blog posts Category:Fan Fiction